Dear Mr Malfoy
by Laurielove
Summary: You know those drunk texts you send and regret the next day? Hermione does that, except hers is really long and a howler, not an angry one, but let's just say it has a very clear message. Very mature content. Lucius/Hermione
1. Chapter 1

**A short little erotic thing. Probably two parts.**

 **I wanted to write drunk fan fic the other night, but there was a problem ... I wasn't drunk. The fabulous Rose on my facebook page (please join! Laurielove) suggested that I instead write drunk Hermione sending a howler.**

 **So I did.**

 **It's pretty full on, but then, just like Hermione, we've all thought it.**

 **Enjoy. x**

* * *

You may not be aware, but there are different kinds of howlers. They're not all for the purpose of a public rebuke. Howlers simply convey a verbal message which demands the reader, or rather listener, to open and hear it before it explodes. More interesting is the reason for sending a howler rather than a normal hand written letter. Howlers are usually sent when there is an urgency to the message, a certain insistence that it be conveyed with a particular tone of voice, the same voice that it was recorded in.

Due to the often incendiary and somewhat unpredictable nature of howlers, they are infrequently used. The can neither be retracted nor altered. No one can blame the absence of tone of voice that occurs in print for explaining away misunderstandings. What you hear is what you get.

Therefore, most howlers are sent on the spur of the moment, and are often regretted.

But it wasn't until late the next morning, when Hermione Granger at last awoke with a throbbing head, that she regretted sending the howler she had created the previous night. By then, of course, it was too late.

-xxoOoxx-

Lucius Malfoy sat at breakfast.

He was enjoying a particularly fine cup of Darjeeling as he surveyed the Daily Prophet. His house elf had just cleared away his breakfast plate, but he would sit and savour the tea for a while longer while he studied the state of his investments. Gringotts' shares were down due to trouble in the Eastern European financial markets. He tutted. Perhaps he should split his savings elsewhere?

He put down the paper with a ruffle of annoyance and took another sip of tea. He was due at the Ministry later for a meeting with the Artefacts Committee. Some bother relating to his gargoyles, he understood. Would they never leave him in peace? He had only been in Diagon Alley the other day; he would rather stay at home today. The weather was worsening, and he could open that single malt Draco had given him for his birthday. But then again, he could do with the company. It was somewhat lacking these days.

He put the cup down, enjoying the chink of china on saucer. The clock chimed the quarter hour. He should be readying himself.

Just then his owl swooped in and dropped an envelope directly in front of him. He recognized what it was immediately, but not the handwriting on the front. It was a howler and it immediately started to glow. It would explode if he didn't open it immediately.

Bugger. Had the Ministry discovered that little deal with the Romanian ambassador? Surely not. They had more important matters to concern themselves with.

With a mild amount of trepidation, he picked up the already warm envelope and opened it.

Immediately, the paper formed into full, dark lips and a remarkably alluring female voice spoke to him.

 _Dear Mr Malfoy … Lucius … Malfoy?_

 _I don't know what to call you. Just to say, this'll be a little incoherent. It's late, I'm back home, I'm alone, I've been out and, y'know, as happens – or perhaps you don't – sometimes when people go out they consume alcohol. So I did. I have. Consumed alcohol, that is. Quite a lot. And now I'm back on my own and my mind is wandering. Or wondering. Both._

He recognized the voice. He'd recognize it anywhere. It was that voice. That voice which had frustrated yet intrigued him for longer than he cared to admit. It was the voice of Miss Hermione Granger.

A drunk Miss Granger, at that. Well, well. Lucius listened on, his anxiety dissipating and his curiosity raised.

 _I saw you the other day. In Diagon Alley. You didn't see me. You were ahead of me, making your way in your usual cocksure way through the crowds. Tall, almost gliding with effortless bloody-minded superiority, same as ever. Some things never change, do they, Malfoy? But it was at that point that I realized something for the first time – well, sort of and sort of not for the first time – but it was the first time I've actually admitted it. And because I'm totally rat-arsed, emotional and horny as hell, I'm going to tell you._

 _So, here goes. Here goes me telling you. Right here. Right now. I'm telling you._

 _Ready?_

 _Lucius Malfoy, you are fucking hot._

 _So fucking hot._

 _And I want you._

 _There. Said it._

 _Don't worry, I still hate you. You hate me. I hate you. Nothing's changed there. But the fact remains that you are fucking hot. I guess opposites attract and all that. And passion can be driven by hate as much as the other, I'm guessing. Well, I'm knowing, cos I'm lying here on my bed totally naked (just thought I'd throw that in there) and thinking about all the things I'd really, really, really like you to do to me (oh yes)._

Lucius stared ahead of him at the envelope, the dark lips still moving hypnotically. He could not move; he was totally and utterly riveted by what he was hearing. What had prompted this? What had given her cause to do this? But he found he neither cared nor wanted to know. He simply wanted to hear it all. His breathing came faster and his trousers grew snugger.

 _Do you want me to tell me what those things are? I'm going to. I guess I need to get it off my chest or something or it'll eat away at me. I'm touching myself now, Malfoy, thinking about you. Touching myself, and can I just say that the mere thought of you has got me oh so fucking wet and oh so fucking hot._

 _Going back to that little scene in Diagon Alley the other day. Let's just imagine I hadn't gone into Flourish and Blotts and you into Twilfitt and Tattings and I hadn't let you go on your merry way. Let's just imagine I followed you. Just picture it, me watching you, observing your every move. When you pause to look in a window, I pause. When you go into a shop, I do too. Call it stalking if you want. You can cope. It's only in my head, after all._

 _As you look over the shelves, you turn your head and see me. I look right back at you. At first your eyes flare with hostility – old habits die hard – but I carry on staring right at you and you stare back._

 _You do it first. You smirk. That infuriating but fucking sexy little condescending smile of yours. Just a little. A little tick at the corner of your mouth. I'm so wet, both in my fantasy and now. Just sayin'. My fingers are all over my naked wetness right now, just so you're fully up to speed with my need to tell all._

 _So, what do I do? I smile back, slight, barely noticeable, but you notice. Now the tables are turned. I walk out slowly and go elsewhere. Wherever I go, you follow, keeping a so far respectable distance behind. But I know you're there. Every so often I glance to make sure of it. We lock eyes each time. God, you have the most fucking beautiful eyes. Can someone come just by being stared at? If anyone can do it, you can, Malfoy._

 _I need it so badly. In my imagination I can get it, but here and now, Malfoy, I'm touching myself. I'm touching myself and thinking about you. God, I want you. In the absence of you, I've only got my fingers and a dildo. Back to the fantasy._

Good God, woman!

 _I go down an alleyway, turn a corner then another. My breath is dragging cos I want you so much. My belly hurts, my cunt throbs, my chest hurts from dragging in breaths because I need you and your cock. It's big, isn't it, your cock? I have to say, I've stolen real life glances at it, even in times of danger. Like in your house that time. I can't help myself. Call it curiosity. One great big hard cock. It has to be, because I have to feel it. I have to feel it stretching me, filling me. I wait in that alley. You take your time because you're a total fucking bastard._

He would allow her the insult, all things considered, and his cock was so hard he could not care less.

 _But then you appear, slowly, paced. You walk over to me and stand a foot or so away. Your eyes take me in and I let you. I just wait, barely able to focus._

 _You lean into me, focusing on my lips. I whine, like a cat or something, desperate for more. You smirk and pause, letting my lust rise to such a pinnacle I'm either going to pull you in or hit you so hard you'll fall._

 _You move in again, but instead of kissing me, you take hold of my wrists and pull them roughly over my head, pinning them to the wall. I grunt in surprise but love it. I shouldn't but I do. And then, at last, at fucking last, you're kissing me. Oh fuck, you're kissing me. You devour me. I let you. I open and you invade me with your tongue and I love it. I give you mine, I give you me. Still you pin my arms above me, but you press into me and I can feel you hard and urgent against me, that glorious, wonderful cock of yours I'm dreaming and dreaming of right now. I rub along you and you groan into me. It's such a fucking hot sound that I take your bottom lip and suck on it, biting down on it at the end and causing you to pull back in shock. It's my turn to smirk. Your eyes flash but then you're back at me. One hand still holds my wrists, the other curls around my neck and pulls me harder into you._

 _For a time I think I'll drown in you or you in me. We attack each other's mouths, needing lips and tongues and teeth. There's blood, I can taste it but it makes my desire for you so uncontainable that I cry out and dig my heel hard into the back of your thigh. With that, you draw away, your breath fast and uncontainable. Your eyes are blurred but you fix your gaze as best you can into mine while your right hand reaches down, pulling up my skirt. You're still pinning me with the other. I give a token little struggle of resistance and you push me harder against the wall with a grunt of possession. Fuck, that turns me on so fucking much. I'm so fucking wet, Malfoy, so fucking wet._

 _I'm only wearing knickers and you pull them off. You rip them and let them fall shredded to the ground. Your fingers are there and I coat you in my juices immediately. I'm so slick you can barely gain purchase on me, but you find the middle and glide through before instantly curling two fingers up into me._

 _You've penetrated me at last and I adore it, grinding down on your fingers like a wild thing. I reach for your mouth again and you gift it to me for a moment, as violent as before, wide open, tongue robbing, lip bruising possession. Your fingers fuck me, not gently, hard, thrusting, piercing, stabbing. Fuck, I'm almost coming now. I have to slow this down, Malfoy, I haven't even put the dildo in yet._

 _You remove your hands urgently only to undo your belt. I love that sound, that unseen noise of metal clanking, of leather sliding. I grin deliriously and start to whine out what I want you to do._

' _Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Put your cock in me, hard in me, deep. I want to be fucked by your cock now, now, Malfoy. Fuck me, fuck me, please give me your cock and fuck me.'_

 _I glance down to see it. Big, yes, hard, full, dripping your need. I grin like a feral cat. Still I'm pinned in one hand, but I move my leg to the side to grant you the easiest access._

' _Take it, you Mudblood bitch,' you snarl, and then – OH HOLY FUCK!_

 _Fuck! You're in me. And you have the most glorious cock ever. Oh God, Malfoy, my dildo's hard up in me but it's not enough, it's not you. I have to work it so hard but it's not you, it's not you._

 _In my mind you're filling me, you're right up in me and I can feel you stretching me. Oh God, that's big, that's what I need, I need it so badly, so badly. Filling me, filling that emptiness, making me feel again, making me live again. At last your hand releases my wrists and it hurts, hurts where your fingers have been digging in and hurts not to have you holding me any more, but you bring that hand to my neck and pull me in to kiss again, still possessive, still tongue deep, in time with your thrusting. You fuck hard, in and out, pulling out your cock so that I weep to lose you then driving back in to the hilt, jolting me against the wall. Every time you force your cock into me, you grunt, a low, deep sonorous groan that hits me like your cock is hitting my g-spot. You can't manage to keep your mouth on mine. Your eyes are blurred and your pleasure building. In the position you're in, you hit my clit too, rubbing along it with each thrust. Oh fuck, I'm nearly there, nearly there. I'm burning with pleasure, freezing with anticipation. I'm there and here, held and flying._

 _Malfoy, Malfoy, fuck me, fuck me._

 _Your hand on my neck curls round and your fingers encircle it. It gives me a frisson of danger that I crave. You tighten that grip the merest amount as your cock continues to inhabit me, deep, hard, driving, driving, filling and fucking._

' _Come for me, bitch, come for me, Mudblood,' you say. Fingers tighten again, cock pistons yet deeper, hurting almost, hurting and enthralling and filling._

 _Christ, coming! I'm coming, Malfoy, coming, coming, coming, coming!_

 _You come too, deep, hot inside me. I can almost feel it, that explosion of rich, white cream pouring into me. I want it, I want it, I want it coating me and pooling in me. Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me._

 _Fuck._

 _Oh fucking, fucking hell._

 _I'm coming down, Malfoy. Slowly. Fuck, oh fuck, that was … oh fuck._

 _I'm still here, Malfoy. You did that to me. You've done that. I want it. I want it. I want it so much I'll die._

 _Please._

 _Please._

 _Please._

 _With total undeniable lust,_

 _Hermione Granger (Miss)_

Lucius Malfoy sat quite still, too shocked to do anything, despite the fact that his cock was so enormously hard it would probably split the seam of his now damp trousers. Hermione Granger had just masturbated out a howler and sent it to him. She had masturbated while thinking about him, thinking about him fucking her, fucking her hard and furiously against a wall in an alley way.

Well, well. Had he anyone to speak to, for once, even he admitted, he would have been speechless.

The clock struck the half hour. He was due at the Ministry in an hour's time.

He picked up his cup of Darjeeling and drained it, then, with a smirk, contemplated what to do next.

Miss Granger worked at the Ministry.

Apparently, it was going to be rather a good day after all.

* * *

 **Cold shower time. And that was all in her head. Wait for the next chapter! Oh, Hermione. #awks**

 **If you've time to write something about this, I will send Lucius your way. (At least in your head. Just don't send a howler.) LL x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Than you for your response to this story. It's been a lot of fun. I'm ending it here as I have so much more to write on other stories, but, you never know, there's room to revisit this one at some point.**

 **So ... howler sent, consequences to face. Enjoy. x**

* * *

Hermione was supposed to be at a departmental briefing at 9am. She wasn't.

She owled in to say she had a migraine and would be delayed.

 _Shit._ She'd have to go in at some point. She had work up to her eyeballs.

What the hell was she going to do? She awoke with only vague memories of the night before. She'd had far too much to drink, that much was certain. And she'd written … something … and sent it. But what exactly …? She remembered getting very carried away. She remembered …

 _Shit!_ But that wouldn't have gone in a letter, surely? Even she wasn't that stupid. _Shit!_

However, last night contained three definites:

Inebriation.

Lucius Malfoy.

Correspondence.

She cringed, and then wailed, and then tore her fingers through her hair. There was more. Memories started creeping back. _Oh God._ Maybe four definites. Maybe … sex.

Possibly. Perhaps.

She knew she'd been thinking about Malfoy since seeing him in Diagon Alley that time. She knew that she … _no._

Surely not. She couldn't.

She mustn't.

She can't have.

If she had written something it would have been brief, not too descriptive and most likely terse. Wouldn't it?

Yes.

That was it. Brief and terse.

Nothing to worry about.

All the same, she was rather relieved Malfoy kept to himself in Wiltshire these days. There was no chance of bumping into him at the Ministry today.

With her head starting at last to clear she made it into the Ministry at about half ten. The world was still turning. She hadn't heard anything in return, thank God. Perhaps she hadn't even sent the damn thing. Her anxiety eased and she went about her day confident that her drunken stupidity had amounted to absolutely nothing.

After a meeting with the Minister, she left the department, laughing at a joke Shacklebolt threw her way, and headed down the main corridor for some lunch. A meeting had just finished and the wizards and witches were leaving the committee chamber. She greeted her colleagues warmly.

And she came face to face with Lucius Malfoy.

And she turned on her heels and ran back to her office and slammed the door shut.

Hermione rushed to her desk and grabbed the first documents she came across. She started reading them through as if her life depended on it, not that she took in a single word.

Maybe she'd imagined him. He wasn't there. He'd go away. He'd just go away.

There was a knock at her door.

Before she could give a response, it was opened.

'Miss Granger.'

That voice could only belong to one person. Slowly, she raised her head, her heart missing a beat. There, standing in the doorway of her office, was a tall, blond, former Death Eater with a snake headed cane. Without waiting for an invitation, he came in and shut the door behind him.

'Oh Christ,' she said.

'Not quite.'

'What do you want, Malfoy?'

'No Mister today?' he crooned.

He sat smoothly in the chair before her desk and folded his legs, then simply looked at her, his grey eyes shining with intent. 'I thought it only right and proper that I should come and thank you in person.'

'Thank me? For what?' Her heart was thumping so hard he'd hear it.

'You sent me something.' His lips flickered with the hint of a smile.

'Did I?'

'Oh, surely you remember.'

'I've forgotten.'

'Forgotten?' he pouted. 'What a shame, as it was particularly … stimulating.'

She looked back at her documents, making a show of ignoring him. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Correspondence, Miss Granger. Correspondence in which you were most … generous. You took the time to write to me, or rather, to gush to me, shall we say. It was by far the most interesting howler I've ever received.'

'Oh God, a howler?' She baulked. This was getting worse and worse, and the more she heard, the more she remembered exactly what she'd put in it. _Oh fuck._ 'I sent a howler?'

'Oh yes, you most certainly did, and I most certainly heard it. Every single word of it.'

She glanced up. He was eyeing her steadily, his cheekbones framing his beautiful face. His arrogance made him totally and undeniably desirable. The sentiments of last night suddenly and chaotically came flooding back. Who was she kidding? She'd been consumed with thoughts of him, of being with him, of having him, of him having her, ever since she'd seen him again the other day. Call it irrational, call it crazy, but it was impossible to deny.

She'd had some 'me time' last night, as she called it. Others would call it masturbation, wanking, whatever. Hermione, ever the tactful linguist, called it 'me time'. She suddenly and completely remembered that too. And she remembered getting out some enchanted parchment. Every single thing she was thinking while having her 'me time' she had put in her howler. She remembered it with force now. And he'd heard it. He'd been party to it. He knew exactly what she wanted. Her heart beat raced. Fight or flight.

Or deny everything.

Hermione sat up straight, adjusted her jacket, cleared her throat and stated with politician-like precision: 'I apologise, Mr Malfoy. I was under the influence of alcohol. I didn't mean a word of it.'

'Oh, I see. Not a word.'

'Not a word.'

'Naturally,' he purred, utterly unconvinced.

There was silence. He sat there still, watching her.

Hermione looked up, her eyebrows raised in sham innocent enquiry. 'Was there anything else, Mr Malfoy?'

'Back to Mister now … how kind.'

'I have work. If that is all, I must be getting on with it.'

Malfoy's brows creased a little in thought and he steepled his fingers before him. 'You see … I rather thought that alcohol loosened inhibitions.'

Damn him! Why couldn't he just let it drop? She tapped her quill on the desk irritably. 'I'm a busy woman.'

He continued. She may as well not have spoken. 'That it, rather than restricting honesty, in fact allowed truth to be revealed.'

She pursed her lips. 'In my experience people spout utter rubbish when drunk.'

'They may express it in a slightly more liberal way than usual, granted, but it is usually truthful rubbish.'

'Yes, well, like I said … I didn't mean a word.'

He cocked an eyebrow. 'So you didn't mean the part about being turned on by my eyes?'

'No.'

'Or the part about you whining like a cat if I didn't give it to you?'

'No.'

'Or the part about you making my fingers stupendously wet when I touched you.'

'NO!'

'Or the part about wanting to feel stretched by my enormous –'

'MALFOY! PLEASE!'

'Yes, you certainly said that. There was considerable … pleading.'

She put her head in her hands and said, 'Malfoy, for God's sake, this is crazy. I just want to forget the whole thing!'

'Are you sure?'

She looked straight at him and opened her mouth to say yes but nothing came out. She tried to look everywhere but at him.

He smirked again. 'Not so sure.' Malfoy leaned in. 'Miss Granger.' He waited. Eventually she couldn't help but meet his eyes again. ' _I_ don't want to forget it. Your little correspondence made me … as hard – as – _rock_.'

Hermione stood up immediately and walked swiftly round towards the door. 'You need to leave now.'

He stood too, blocking her path. 'I don't.'

She glared furiously at him, her breath coming fast. 'Get out, Malfoy. I hate you. Nothing's changed there.'

'Good. Like you said, hatred fuels passion.'

He was standing perilously close to her, so close she could feel his heat. His presence seemed to seep into her. His rich black clothes were spread over a firm, broad torso. And that scent of him … something she hadn't been able to imagine before. She took a deep breath and it nearly made her swoon. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away. He only stepped in closer, she could tell.

His next words came whispered, intensely low, only for her. 'You want to know, don't you?'

'Know what?'

'Whether that deliciously filthy little mind of yours got the details right.'

She looked up at him, trying to be defiant but managing only to have her belly leap with unfettered lust.

He stepped ever closer. She moved back, two steps, closer to the wall. He approached again.

She tensed, trying again to summon her indignation. It seemed to be having the opposite effect. She tried a defiant shrug. 'I couldn't care less. Today's a completely new day.'

'Exactly,' he purred. 'Let's start as we mean to go on.'

She moved back again. He moved with her until she jolted up against the wall with a start, causing her to gasp. He was there, right there, tall, heated, prime man, man she wanted so much that a sob rose from her, a sob like the sound she'd described in her howler the night before.

With his gaze flitting between her mouth and her eyes, he breathed down to her, 'You want it, I know. Say the word, and I'll give it to you.'

She couldn't answer him. If she answered him there was no going back. She glanced at the door and muttered two charms. A locking and silencing charm. What the hell was she doing? _What the hell?_

He smirked. 'Good girl. Just say the word. Just say it.'

She locked eyes with him. Her arms rose above her head and she clasped her wrists together, mimicking the stance she'd adopted in her fantasy. 'I want it.'

His smile deepened. Then, with sudden strength, he reached up his left arm and grabbed onto her wrists, pinning them to the wall.

'And I … you beautiful, tormenting, brilliant little Mudblood bitch … want you too. I want you so much my lust pains me, my cock's in agony. So I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to give you my cock so hard you won't know what's hit you. Do you understand?'

She nodded.

'But first … let's see how wet you really are.'

Slowly, so slowly, he reached under her skirt and found her knickers. Just like in her fantasy, he took hold of them and tugged, ripping them from her and discarding them disdainfully. Then, as he stroked her inner thigh, his other hand relinquished his hold on her wrists and moved instead to her throat.

'Does that scare you, my hand there?' He reinforced it by tightening his fingers the merest amount.

She shook her head.

'I could kill you. One little squeeze and you would be no more.'

She just stared into him. He smiled. 'But, no … I think we can have a lot more fun this way.'

He moved his fingers up her leg and found her. She was even wetter than she'd been the night before, if possible. His lips curled into an immediate smile of revelatory appreciation. 'By the gods, girl, you are sodden. And all because of me. I fear I'm actually somewhat flattered.'

'More,' she managed. He glided his fingers through her folds, skilfully evading her swollen clit, but sweeping along her channel where her juices continued to pour onto him.

'Fuck!' he said. 'That's fucking wet!' With that he found her opening and pushed two fingers hard up inside. She groaned at this first penetration and pushed down onto them. Malfoy drew in a staggering breath, his own lust clear and uncontained. 'That's it, that's it. Let me feel you.'

She moved on his hand. He worked his fingers inside her and she clenched onto them, desperate to feel any of him she could. 'Oh God, Malfoy, want you inside me, want it.' Grinding hard, she leaned into him and at last he gave her his mouth. They attacked each other as madly as she'd imagined. Open mouthed, she gave to him and he thrust his tongue into her to match his fingers pistoning through her cunt. She took it and sucked, wanting it, wanting to absorb him.

With a groan, Malfoy relinquished his hold on her neck to reach round and pull her harder into him.

'Taste me, taste me,' he murmured between ravishing kisses. 'Like you did, like you did … bite.'

She took his bottom lip between her own, tugging it out hard, then, with the swiftness of an alley cat, she caught it in her teeth and bit down. He cried out and pulled back sharply. Her eyes flashed with triumphant lust and he brought up a hand to find his own blood. Then, with a smile of pleasured pain, he looked back at her, 'Yes. You give, I'll take. I give, you take.'

'Take then, you bastard,' she declared and pulled him back into her, lips and teeth colliding, tongues blending.

In the middle of this frantic connection, she felt his fingers at her shirt. He tore, ripping it open with no hesitation. Reaching into her bra cups, he drew out her breasts so they sat before him full and firm. Then, with a groan of pleasure, Malfoy dropped his head to a nipple and sucked. He sucked so hard she cried out and he reached up and clamped a hand over her mouth. She loved the sensation of being silenced by him, of being pinned shut by him. She sucked on his palm as he sucked on her tit. His hand found the other and rolled and pinched it. If it was possible to be still wetter, she was. Her tits were in delicious torment under the mouth and fingers of this man. Her cunt throbbed, ached, needing him so much she considered biting down on his hand to hurry him. But it was so gorgeously painfully sweet right now, caught on this knife edge of pleasure pain, that she let him continue feasting on her.

Then, at last, with a long, dragging tug, giving her a final agony as he relinquished her nipple from between his teeth, he grinned up at her with clear intent.

Aware that the best was yet to come, she reached desperately for his belt and quickly unzipped his trousers.

'Let me see, let me see,' she moaned, pushing him back slightly to look. Reaching down, she released it. Hermione let out a laugh of anticipation. Even bigger than her mind had dared. She turned back to him and smiled, taking hold of his shoulder in one hand, guiding his turgid cock towards her with the other. 'Fuck me with it.'

'That is precisely what I intend.'

'Oh, hurry, fuck hurry,' she moaned, his refined teasing infuriating her. She thumped him hard on the shoulder, but he merely replaced his hand on her throat. But then she had it at last: the head of his cock nudging at her wet and ready pussy. She locked eyes with him. Gone was the smirk. His eyes were cold with certainty, his mouth set straight.

'Feel it.'

He pushed in. Slowly, not fast, but maybe that was best. He was so huge she wasn't sure her slight cunt could take him. 'Oh Jesus!' she wailed. 'Big!'

He pushed in further and she was stretched. Her eyes widened, her mouth gaped. 'So fucking big, so fucking big.' Deeper, stretch, stretch, fill. Tears came to her eyes. Malfoy's Adam's apple lurched along his neck.

'Fucking hell, witch, that's tight. So fucking hot and tight and wet.'

'More, more, please, please.' She begged him, she pleaded. He pushed in further and her head fell back as he caught her g-spot. 'Oh fuck, yes!'

'You begged me last night too.'

'Yes, yes, I'll beg, please, please fuck me, Malfoy.'

'Ride it. Ride me. Use it.'

So she did. She lifted her other leg up and curled it around him as she leant back against the wall. Gripping onto his shoulders, supported by his hands, she rode the stiff greatness of his cock. Rolling, bucking, working it inside her, she used him. Their eyes and bodies were locked. Her slight frame fitted so snugly on him it wasn't hard for him to hold her, supported by the great plug of his prick.

She whined and mewled, bucked and rolled, moving along his cock to bring the most sensation from her cunt.

'Want this forever. Want this forever, filled with you.' This was how it should feel. This was what obliterated emptiness felt like. She'd never be so magnificently crammed full again. God, he was so big it hurt, but she gloried in every ridge and vein and pulsing, solid inch of him.

Malfoy was moaning, his pleasure unimaginable. 'Perfect fuck. Perfect fuck.'

She threw her head back and wailed, 'Do you want to come? I want you to come. I want you coming inside me and plugging me with all of you.'

'Come first. Come for me first, Mudblood.'

'Hate you for calling me that. Hate you, Malfoy, you prick. Hate you so fucking much … oh fuck! Your cock is sensational. Perfect fucking cock!' She bucked on him again, twice, and that ball of exquisite coiling tension broke free. She came violently, pulsing and shaking on his stiff shaft so hard he had no choice but to join her. As she convulsed around him, clasped to him, he erupted, his come shooting hard and fast into the warm welcome of her spasming cunt. He cried out with the force of it; never had he come so hard.

It brought her another jolt of after-pleasure and she gasped it out, her limbs jerking with the shock.

He gave at the knees, unable not to, and together they slumped to the floor as he came reluctantly out of her. She lay back against the wall, her eyes closed, panting hard.

'Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God,' she repeated, a mantra of bliss.

Malfoy tore his eyes open to see her before him, legs splayed, the white of his seed oozing from her newly-fucked pussy. Fucked by him. It was a sight of sheer glory. They leaned back, unable to move for some time, letting what had just passed between them sink in.

'You didn't mean a word of it?' he asked after a while, his eyes still half-closed in recovery.

'Not a word,' she replied.

'I think you should prove that you didn't mean a word of it again. Very soon.'

'I agree.'

'Tonight. The Manor. Apparate to the gates.' He managed to stand up at last, glancing down at her with a satisfied smirk.

'I finish work at six.'

'Can you make it by ten past?' Malfoy tidied his clothing.

'I'll be there at five past.'

'Excellent.' He crossed to the door, then paused and looked back at her before leaving. 'Don't be late, Miss Granger.'

Hermione Granger was never late.

* * *

 **Well, would you be late for Lucius Malfoy? ;-)**

 **Thanks in advance for any thoughts and reviews. And thanks again to Rose on fb for the idea. Join us on fb for more fun. My page is, originally, called 'Laurielove'. Lots of laurielove for now. xxx**


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